"See how wounded he is," said Amer, "and yet his mind is more wounded than his body, he scarcely notices the hurt."
"Ah yes!" moaned the man, "I am sore wounded. I have no strength even to look up, the enemy has overpowered me. I am in the lowest hell."
"Poor man," sighed Iddo gently, "how I wish I could help you."
"Lady," he said urgently to Belthiah, "take your sweet child away, I am no fit company for her; and you, young man, leave me too. I only ask this friend to stay a few minutes with me that I may tell him my trouble."
Slowly they obeyed his request, for none of them could endure the thought of leaving the poor man in such a plight.
"Friend," said the wounded man to the slow traveller, as he sat down beside him, "I have lost my Guide Book and I have lost my sword. In fact the enemy has taken my armour off piece by piece and hope is dead within me."
"When did the enemy attack you?" asked his companion.
"Ah! that is the sad part of the story. I found someone in distress on the road. The great enemy Doubt had him in his grip. His Guide Book had been torn to pieces by those who think they are helping others in taking out leaf after leaf of the volume and throwing it on one side. Forgetful of my own weakness and sin, I spent hours with him trying to combat the enemy by his side, but I forgot to be watchful myself. I thought I was too strong and too brave a soldier to be overcome, and forgot to cry to the King; and as I was talking I suddenly felt the enemy himself seize me, and before I knew where I was he had wrenched the Book and my sword from my hands, and had dealt me a blow which at first I thought was that of my death blow. Friend, hope and light and joy are passed for me. Despair has me in his grip, and rather than endure this misery, and doubt my King and my City, I mean to go by a short cut to the dark river."
Then the slow traveller stood up, looked towards the Radiant City, and prayed.
"Friend," he said, as he fastened his girdle about him more securely, "I will fight the enemy with you."